


Christmas gonna suck

by Ulqueleh (Ulquii)



Series: Holiday Ficlets! [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And they're not even dating yet lmao, Christmas Eve, Fever, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) calls Keith 'baby', Sick Fic, Sick Keith (Voltron), Vomiting, but better be careful, not exactly graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulquii/pseuds/Ulqueleh
Summary: When Keith woke up on Christmas Eve with a hammering headache and his stomach turning into itself with every swaying step he takes to the bathroom, he knew the day would be very long.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Holiday Ficlets! [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071713
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Christmas gonna suck

**Author's Note:**

> Holiday gift for [Owen](https://twitter.com/the_shadowking)!!
> 
> I hope you like it!

When Keith woke up on Christmas Eve with a hammering headache and his stomach turning into itself with every swaying step he takes to the bathroom, he knew the day would be very long. He was lucky —or very unlucky— that most of the paladins have celebrations with their own families rather than a Team Voltron reunion, and that his mom and the Blades are scheduled to finish their missions in a few quintants more. That way he would deal with his sickness and weariness all by himself, just like he’s used to.

Or well, that’s what he thinks until his PADD pings with a new message from Shiro, telling him with enthusiasm —meaning, lots of emojis— that he’s free of meetings and work for today and tomorrow, starting to make plans with Keith before Keith can tell him he can’t. He doesn’t want anyone to deal with him, nor to get sick with what he might have, and he knows that taking care of him isn’t something people would look forward to on Christmas Holidays.

He doesn’t want Shiro to put his free days in jeopardy because of him, not when he can spend them in better company and situation. But before he can come up with a believable excuse for Shiro to not ask many questions about, an incoming call darkens his screen, Shiro’s name in white blaring his eyes and making his head pulse with pain.

He didn’t even wait for Keith to type his answer, the moron.

“Yeah?” Keith mutters after tapping the answer button and contains his urge to cough when the sole word rasps all the way from the bottom of his throat to the back of his mouth.

“Is everything alright?” Shiro asks, probably wary of Keith’s way of responding —he’s usually more eager to answer Shiro’s calls.

“Yeah. Yes, I just-” He stares at his unmade bed at the other side of his room, looking so far away and unreachable. He can’t get the energy to walk to it, instead staying plastered against the wall beside the bathroom door, “I just woke up.”

Shiro stays silent, but Keith doesn’t mind it much, focusing on taking a deep breath to try and stumble his way to the bed.

“Are you sure?” Shiro asks when Keith sits down, and falls sideways into his pillow, groaning. He’s almost sure he has fever, “Keith?”

“Yeah, I’m-” There’s a gurgle in his stomach and bile climbs up his throat, “I-”

“Keith-”

He gags, leaving the PADD in the bed and running to the bathroom once again, barely making it.

He doesn’t know for how long he stays in the bathroom floor, sniffing and coughing every once in a while. His stomach has been empty since the night before but still sends him upsetting nausea. He groans, sure he can feel the Earth rotating and dizzying him more. 

There’s a faint knock on his door, and he looks over it from his miserable place on the bathroom floor.

“Keith? Are you there?” Shiro’s voice comes muffled through the walls and the ringing in Keith’s ears, but Keith recognizes it.

“Shit,” he grunts, standing up in shaky legs and tripping his way to the door.

“Keith?” he hears just as he’s punching the code with blurry sight, groaning at the obviously turned-on lights in the hallway behind Shiro’s figure, “Keith!”

Keith tries to swat the light away, but that means he pulls his hands away from the wall he’s holding onto to keep up-straight, which consequently makes him sway to a side. He doesn’t fall, though, strong hands holding him by the arms and sides. He shivers at one impossibly cold and big, while the other is skin-warm.

“Keith- what-”

“What’re you doin’ here?” Keith grumbles, and instead of answering, Shiro sighs, helping him walk —or rather, be  _ dragged _ — to bed.

“You suddenly stopped answering through the phone and I was worried,” Shiro murmurs, sweetly close to Keith’s ear while he makes him lay down. Shiro’s hand —his flesh one, Keith appreciates— stops on his forehead, soft and warm, “Stars,  _ Keith _ , you have a fever!”

Keith wrinkles his nose and tries weakly to swat his hands away when Shiro fuzzes over him, trying to pull the covers over his body.

“‘m fine,” Keith mumbles, sitting up suddenly and trying to push down the nausea that gurgles his stomach, “You should go.”

Shiro’s laugh is airy, and Keith tries to glare at him.

“I won’t leave you like this, Keith,” Shiro murmurs, not believing Keith is actually asking him to leave, “You’re sick, baby. Have you eaten anything?”

Keith tried not to think about Shiro calling him ‘baby,’ grumbling at how his stomach hurts from emptiness below the nausea.

“I-” he resists the urge to gag, fisting Shiro’s shirt for something to hold on. It’s then that he notices how Shiro is dressed, fine white silk shirt, black dress pants and his favorite star tie. 

“Let me take care of you,” Shiro requests, helping him to lay down once again and Keith shakes his head, the action making him dizzy, “Keith…”

“I-” he tries again, but then his belly decides maybe Shiro’s shirt is too clean.

“Keith!” He hears when he slaps a hand over his mouth and scrambles out of the bed, running to the bathroom and falling to his knees in front of the toilet.

“‘m fine,” he says against the porcelain after he had emptied his stomach, feeling Shiro’s hands going up and down his back and holding his hair away from his face and the toilet.

“Maybe you could say that when you’re not plastering your cheek against the seat of the toilet, Keith,” Shiro jokes lightly, his presence terribly soothing when his voice goes even softer, “Please, Keith, you’re not feeling well. I can’t leave you like this.”

Keith makes a noncommittal sound, and Shiro sighs.

“Christmas gonna suck,” Keith garbles out a few minutes later, after Shiro had wiped clean his face with a warm, wet cloth and flushed the toilet, “I don’t wan’ it to suck for you too.”

He feels Shiro tilt his face with a gentle hand on his chin, and he takes a big gulp of water from the glass Shiro is holding to his lips. After he had emptied the glass, he realizes how thirsty he had been all day, being almost 9:00 pm when Shiro arrived to his room. It’s almost midnight now, and Keith is feeling very bitter.

“It’s gonna suck either way if I know you’re like this and alone,” Shiro murmurs, wiping the corner of his mouth with a thumb and smiling down at him, “Just-”

“I know,” Keith rolls his eyes, almost making him lose where’s up and where’s down, “‘Let me take care of you’, is it?”

Shiro smiles and leans down to help him stand up. This time is easier to walk to his bed, maybe because his fever is receding, and his stomach is finally settling. But it might be a little more than that, too.

“What?” Shiro asks when Keith stares at him for too long, already on bed and covered with his blankets up to his chin.

“Thank you,” Keith mutters, eyes heavy and blinking close.

Shiro’s smile is the best medicine Keith could have.

“Merry Christmas, Keith,” Shiro wishes him and Keith groans, making him laugh, “What? It’s already past midnight.”

“Whatever,” Keith grumbles and settles in his bed, thinking for a bit and being bold, “Would you- uh- stay the night?”

Shiro watches him for a second and nods, leaning close to kiss his forehead.

“Of course, baby.”

Keith feels his face heat, now for something aside from the sickness.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!
> 
> ~
> 
> Come and yell with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ulqueleh)!


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